


What Is Love?

by orphan_account



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, IDK what this is but I just needed to post it here so, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 17:01:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6574519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had not expected Alec Lightwood to propose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Is Love?

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This is a little drabble that I started and left and then tried to finish and then realised it was awful so tried to fix and then just gave up and posted it. I only put it on here because I know that some people on tumblr like reading it on here rather their dash so...... Anyways, everyone loves a lil bit of character study, so here we go!

Lydia, for all that it was worth, actually loved weddings.

Growing up in Idris, surrounded by important people and even more important unions, she spent a lot of her youth sitting quietly in the back of many weddings, watching over and over in awe as couple after couple each sealed their marriage with the rune, wide eyed and envious of the wonderful dresses the women got to wear and how _happy_ they looked.

And Lydia, as much as she had loved John, would later admit - on one silent evening and only to herself - one of the biggest disappointments of his death was that not only was it her fault, but that she would not be getting married. It was selfish, she knew. As soon as she had thought it she recoiled as if someone had punched her, and had left the quiet of her room to mingle with others to keep the thought away, but it still stuck. While Lydia did her best to never think something like that again, at the odd moment the thought would strike again, and Lydia was left with the 'what if’s' of her waiting just a minute later in that mission. She let her mind wander, once, a mistake she wouldn’t make again, thinking about how amazing it would have been if John had lived, so Lydia would finally get the chance to walk down the aisle like she had dreamed of for so long, taking John’s hand in her own and leaving the ceremony in her beautiful dress, the new runes still stinging slightly where they had been placed minutes earlier, all of her dreams come true.

She had, unfortunately, made the mistake of confessing this thought to her mother. Her mother, who had looked at her with shocked eyes before schooling her with a condescending glare, telling her that Shadowhunters were not to look forward to weddings to look “pretty”, but to look forward to weddings for the honour. As much as Lydia had heard that spiel of her mother’s while she was younger, it had stung a lot more in that moment, her heart still healing after the mourning period after John’s funeral, and Lydia realised she was being selfish.

She had not expected Alec Lightwood to propose.

Suspected, maybe. Secretly even hoped, despite her preconceived thoughts about him, and when he got down on one knee in front of her, looking up at her with an earnest smile and wide eyes, of course Lydia had said yes. She called her mother and told her of the arrangement, who then - for the next hour - rambled on about a stronger alliance with the Lightwoods and how amazing it would be for Lydia to branch out to the New York Institute and lead it with the young Lightwood man. Lydia had stayed quiet for most of the conversation, humming and commenting when appropriate, but all she could really think about was the feeling of butterflies she got when she imagined herself finally walking down the aisle.

Lydia knew, of course. It was something she couldn’t quite grasp, at first. But Lydia, despite it, would be quite happy to go through with the marriage if he was. The both of them had been raised to follow orders, to do what they could to hold up the ancient regimes and rules that Shadowhunters had followed for years, and if it meant that Lydia would be in a loveless marriage, then she could handle that. She liked the New York Institute. It was more exciting than Idris, it was small and everyone looked out for one another and Lydia actually _enjoyed_ it, unlike her days as her brother’s second in command over in Idris. She’d almost thought about confronting Alec - asking him if he was sure he wanted to go through with the marriage, if he was certain he could do this - but then her wedding dress arrived, and once again that bitter yet elated feeling of selfishness had washed over her, and she had decided that if he had a problem, he could come to her about it. Like she’d told Clary - she had come to admire him, she held his views and morales close to her heart as she did her own and that was… Fine. She cared for him and he cared for her, it was bearable, and it would do.

Except, also like herself, Alec couldn't always take the heat for everything. Though Lydia, at first, had felt they were both only a means to a political ends with Alec’s own parents, and so when she could see Alec pulling away, his eyes darting between Magnus Bane and her stele, and Lydia understood. Watching Alec pull himself away from Magnus, she could see a blush creeping up his cheeks and down his neck, could see Isabelle grinning from ear to ear in her peripheral vision, and something settled in Lydia, something that had been rising and rising ever since her first engagement, suddenly put to sleep. Lydia smiled softly as she flattened her hands against her dress, tracing the embroidery and coming to clasp her hands together, and then Jace was coming over to her, telling her what a good thing she did, for Alec and for his happiness.

‘It wasn't just for his happiness.’ Lydia wants to tell him, but he doesn't ask and then the moment is gone, and Lydia _gets_ it - Alec Lightwood was not Lydia’s happiness - at least, not in the way she wanted - and so she left the ceremony, hiding her face from Isabelle’s curious eyes, and made her way to her room. She didn’t know what she was feeling. Happy and proud, that Alec had the courage to do something no one would ever dream of, but the feeling of excitement she had while in her wedding dress had died away, and Lydia looked in the mirror at herself - her braided hair, her golden dress and her necklace glimmering in the soft light, and suddenly it all felt… off. She couldn’t place it, this new feeling, but it left a sour taste in her mouth and suddenly Lydia was stripping off the dress, pulling at the ties at the back and dropping the fabric onto the floor, and it felt like a weight was lifting off of her, and finally, she could breathe.

Lydia, for all that it was worth, actually loved weddings.

Just as long as they weren’t hers. Because her weddings made her selfish and clouded, her heart finally pushing through her carefully planned judgement calls, and left her leaving more disappointed than she had any merit in being. So Lydia packed away the dress, and placed on her blazer and dress pants and wiped off her lipstick, and continued on, and she smiled with pride and something else she couldn’t place when Alec and Magnus walked by her in the halls of the institute, and trained with Clary and Jace and walked arm in arm with Isabelle when she wanted to show her something, and slowly, began to realise that her love of weddings wasn’t for the wedding itself, but for the love she hoped she would receive for one. And maybe she never would, like that at least. Maybe there would be no one for her, or someone in front of her or someone far away, but for now she had something that filled the void that had been growing bigger and bigger since she witnessed her cousin’s wedding at four years old, and that was enough.

Lydia, for all that it was worth, actually loved weddings.

But she loved her own happiness more.

 


End file.
